


Seven-Pointed Star

by WriterReadsStuff



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angsty moments, Peter Parker is Tony Stark’s Soulmate, Precious Peter Parker, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, depictions of suicidal thoughts, thats a new tag huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25212883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterReadsStuff/pseuds/WriterReadsStuff
Summary: He frantically ran out of the room, ignoring Obadiah’s calls behind him. The burning began to fade, before only a mild sting was left behind.Tony peeled back his jacket sleeve, then his dress shirt.There, in broad daylight was the shape of a seven-pointed star. It glowed in a magnificent baby blue, lightly shimmering in the fluorescent lights. In the center, there was a diamond, or a rhombus as the linguists would prefer, matching in hue.It was beautiful.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 185
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	Seven-Pointed Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kesktoon04](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesktoon04/gifts).



> Hiiiii!!!! This is my piece for the Friendly Neighborhood Exchange! I hope it’s good, I put a lot of work into this one.

One shape.

One _goddamn_ shape was all Tony Stark had ever wanted.

By the time he was six, everyone he knew had already gotten both of their soulmate tattoos. One on the left wrist for romantic, and one on the right wrist for platonic.

He got his left tattoo when he was four, a square with pink and green chevron lining the inside, accompanied by a blue circle in the upper right hand corner.

He remembered frantically dropping his pencil, running to his mother with glee in his eyes. For such a little boy, he really could hold a lot of energy inside of him. Maria thought it was cute, how happy Tony had been about something so common. Like loosing your first tooth.

She’d told him: _“Soon, baby, you’ll get your right marking as well. Then we can celebrate all night long after Daddy goes to bed, hm?”_

She hadn’t lived to see that happen, though.

At age 31 he still hadn’t gotten his right tattoo. Maybe he was just... unlovable. Not in romance, clearly, but in friendship.

Rhodey had a red and gold triangle, the colors slipping and mixing as they lined to form the hollow shape. Tony liked the colors. They were stylish.

But Happy had the matching tattoo. Not him.

And they always seemed so fucking happy about it, too. Like they were just trying to rub it in Tony’s face. They weren’t- he knew that. God, he wasn’t a toddler. He understood that two people could be friends without it being a personal thing. But... it still hurt, you know?

On sleepless nights, when Tony couldn’t be bothered to drown his sorrows in the lab, he thought about how much better off he would be if he didn’t have to look at that stupid bare skin, each pore taunting him with its nudity.

The assumption stood that, perhaps, if he wasn’t so hell bent on sticking it out for his left wrist’s sake, he would have given in to the right and left a long time ago.

He normally wore long sleeves, to cover his shame behind cloth. He didn’t want people being reminded that Tony Fucking Stark still lacked a platonic soulmate. Like an ingrate. Some kind of mistake of god that nobody could ever match to.

The cloth was it itchy today, though. Maybe he hadn’t washed the blazer properly last night, or it was just his skin being unbearbly sensitive, but it felt... itchy. All morning it had. Like something was going on with him.

“Tony?” Obie asked him. “Can you sign this?”

The man didn’t hesitate to grab the pen, too busy focusing on the itch along his appendage to worry about whatever the hell he was signing. Obie would never lead him astray, anyhow. 

As he reached forward to place his John Hancock, he felt a the itch quickly escalate and grow in mere milleseconds, before turning into a horrible burning sensation.

_Hot_.

Hotter, hotter, hotter it grew. The man grabbed at the skin in pain, hunching over as he screamed. It felt like... the way his left wrist had felt, back when he got his romantic mark. 

What the hell?

Could... could it be...? No- was it...

He frantically ran out of the room, ignoring Obadiah’s calls behind him. The burning began to fade, before only a mild sting was left behind.

Tony peeled back his jacket sleeve, then his dress shirt.

There, in broad daylight was the shape of a seven-pointed star. It glowed in a magnificent baby blue, lightly shimmering in the fluorescent lights. In the center, there was a diamond, or a rhombus as the linguists would prefer, matching in hue.

It was beautiful.

His own platonic tattoo. All his. It stood for something. It meant so much- it meant that his being was truly meant to be loved.

It was then that he realized just how odd the timing was. Soulmate tattoos appeared on the eldest’s skin when the younger was born, so why had his come now?

What the hell was he supposed to do with a newborn baby?

-

Peter Benjamin Parker was born with both of his soulmate tattoos already present.

His parents had taken so many photos that day, their shining faces proudly showing off their baby boy’s little markings. 

On his left hand, the shape of a black dahlia flower, all done up in blood red. On his right, a beautiful baby blue seven-pointed star with a diamond in the center.

He opened his eyes after a few minutes, crosseyed as most little ones were for the first few months. Peter smiled when his Daddy held his little wrists out, proudly showing them off to the boy.

He spoke of their history, the way that fate had assigned Peter to two people already, people that would love him more than anything in the world. That somewhere in the world- another person shared his special markings. His soulmates at birth, star-crossed partners in love or in friendship.

Of course, at less than a day old, Peter had absolutely no idea what his father was saying, but seemed to appreciate it nonetheless.

The infant was absolutely adorable- and had continued in that stride for the years after. He met Michelle in freshman year at Midtown, and they started dating not long after, their matching wrists promising a lifetime of love.

He often wondered, though, as many children would, who had his other matching tattoo.

-

Tony scanned the files he may or may not have stolen from the government.

Each teenage boy had been verified by FRIDAY, a perfect candidate for the little spiderling that had been meander around Queens for the last few months.

There wasn’t much of a reason to it, just some primal instinct he had. No big fight coming up or coup he had to instigate.

The kid had skill, and a lot of untapped potential. He could be great, if only he was trained. Which he wouldn’t be, unless Tony got to him before some rag tag group of thugs did.

_God, that would be a mess._

He flipped through the pages, slowly weening out the boy’s that lacked a motive, a concept too human for FRIDAY to understand. _Yet_.

One file caught his attention, though. The face of a prepubescent boy with messy hair and bright eyes. He was adorable, really. But that’s not what snatched Tony’s eye.

It was the birthdate.

August 10th, 2001 had been the day he got his right tattoo. One of the best days of his life.

There was always the chance that it was a fluke, a coincidence of the ages. Never meant to be, simply crashed in place and left to rest.

But the pictures on the next page of the file sent those thoughts straight underground.

As any other social security file would, this one came with pictures of either soulmate tattoos, accompanied by a description of them for paperwork sake. The images were clearly taken of a newborn baby, likely at the hospital not long after birth.

Peter Parker’s right tattoo was a match.

-

“Hey, May!” Peter called, stepping into the old apartment as he returned from school, his mind still a little bleary over the fact that Cindy Moon had really just chugged 12 diet cokes in one sitting at lunch.

“Oh, hey!” The woman returned, her voice fading in as the boy slowly removed his earbuds and grunted as he sat his backpack down on the chair by the kitchen table. “How was school today?”

He smiled in fond admiration. “Okay.” He responded, “There’s this crazy car parked outside...” he began, before pausing suddenly.

Holy shit.

Holy _shit_.

_Holy shit_.

Was his hair okay? What about his teeth? Was there anything in his teeth? God, there was probably something in his teeth. Were his glasses smudged? Wait- no, no glasses. How about his clothes?

“Oh, Mr. Parker.” The man sitting on his couch acknowledged. 

Peter stuttered, his voice leaving him as his face went numb under pressure. The boy had never been used to the spotlight. “I- wha- what? What are you doi- hey, I- I’m- I’m- I’m Peter. Wai-”

“Tony.” The billionaire greeted. His hair was less shiny in person, and he had a few more wrinkles than he did on TV, Peter noticed.

Tony, he had said, like they were... friends or something. Miss Janelle always said that you shouldn’t refer to public figures by their first names, because they aren’t your friends- they’re sources. 

That was weird. This was weird. Everything was weird.

The boy stammered. “What are you- what are you- what are you doing here?” Mr. Stark chuckled. “It’s about time we met.”

In his peripheral vision, Peter could just make out his Aunt frantically mouthing “What The Fuck” as her eyes blew up wider than a hornet nest. At least he wasn’t the only shocked one here.

“You’ve been getting my emails, right?” Mr. Stark asked him. Suddenly, the man winked his eyes, smirking a little.

What the fuck?

The boy played along. After all, when Tony Stark is signaling for you to follow his lead and do as he says, you listen. “Yeah, yeah, regarding the...”

“You didn’t tell me about the grant.” May chirped..

Peter took the lead. “About the grant.” He nodded. Wait... what grant? 

“The September Foundation.” Mr. Stark allotted, waving his hand as though metaphorically giving Peter the next bit of information for whatever crazy scheme he had just been pulled into.

The boy shrugged and smiled. “Right.” He agreed. “Yeah. Remember when you applied?” Tony asked.

No, Peter thought, I never fucking applied for anything. What the hell is going on, Mr. Iron Man? 

But he didn’t say that, did he? 

“Yeah.” Peter smiled. The man gleamed. “I approved! So, now, we’re in business.”

May shifted in her seat, seemingly compromised by whatever bullshit story it was that the older male had told her. Seriously, what was their story here? “You didn’t tell me anything, what’s up with that? You keeping secrets from me now?” She asked.

“Well, I just- I just know how much you love surprises.” Peter offered, sending an experimental glance towards the other, testing that he was sticking to the plan he had yet to be informed of.

“Anyway, what did I apply for?” The teen hurriedly asked. 

Mr. Stark bluntly blinked, a sign that Peter was definitely not as good of an actor as he liked to hope. Maybe he should start doing drama with MJ, that could help...

“That’s what I’m here to hash out.” The man claimed. “Okay, hash it- hash it out. Okay.” Peter agreed stupidly. He had no idea what he was doing.

As if trained in the art of lying, the richest one in the room drew attention away crom Peter’s misstep. “It’s so hard for me to believe that she’s someone’s aunt.” “Yeah, well we come in all shapes and sizes, you know?” “This walnut date loaf is exceptional.”

“I’m gonna just stop you there.” Peter interjected. God, Tony Stark was hitting on his Aunt.

_So. Weird._

Mr. Stark chuckled a little. “Yeah?” He asked. 

Suddenly, some distant part of Peter’s mind clicked. His Aunt’s face glowed in his mind, like when a character in a movie saw a hot girl and everything slowed down. Not that he thought May was hot, because, ew.

No, he was focusing on the word: _Grant_. 

“Does this grant, like, got money involved or whatever? No?” He asked.

Mr. Stark slowed, seemingly confused by the question. “Yeah...” He began. “Yeah?” Peter echoed. “Well, it’s- it’s pretty well funded.” Oh. Not as exciting- but, still, being in the presence of money like that... 

Peter remembered when he was little, when his still-living father would take him to New Rochelle on the weekends, just to see it.

_“Look at these fellas long and hard, Pete.”_

_“They’re just rich people houses, Daddy!”_

_“Don’t you wanna live in one of ‘em?”_

_“Can’t. We’re not rich people.”_

_“Well? Here’s your inspiration, kiddo. Use that inspiration for your whole life. All you need for success is to be nearby what you want, to remind yourself that it is real and attainable. Then you really will work as hard as you can. This is the goal, so you don’t give up until you’ve got it.”_

Peter’s mind wandered back to the present, Mr. Stark’s face still moving with his words. “Wow.” He gasped.

“I mean, look who you’re talking to.” The man joked. He turned to May. “Can I have five minutes with him?” He asked, pointing towards the bedroom off to the side with PETER clearly emblazoned across the door.

May smiled politely, of course, though Peter was pretty sure she was still uncomfortable with a grown man entering Peter’s bedroom. “Sure.”

They piled into Peter’s small bedroom, his twin bed thankfully having been made that morning. It was still a total mess. Mr. Stark really should have given a warning.

-

Tony was just happy that the kid hadn’t spent too long claiming not to be Spider-Man. He was relatively easy to quell, for a 14-year-old. Not that much teen spirit or whatever the kids called it nowadays. One mention of good pay and a spot on the team and the boy was all for the arrangement.

Peter would be working under Tony until he was old enough to join the Avengers Initiative- that is, if Tony says he’s ready then. Just some mentoring, getting the kid some decent field experience. And a better suit, because... _yeesh_. 

That onesie across the room was an insult to all of superhero suit kind.

“Next order of business,” The man continued, “Roll up your sleeve.”

Peter spluttered. “What?” He remarked.

Tony sighed, before doing so on his own account, revealing that ever familiar design to Peter’s eyes.

The boy began to shake, his whole face going pale as he whispered “Is that...”

“A match? One can only be sure in person, kid.”

Peter gingerly removed his jacket and pulled up the right sleeve of his pullover, revealing his own seven-pointed star, made in a perfect baby blue, with a diamond encased in the center.

The man smiled, happily looking down at the little details, all familiar to him. 

His own platonic soulmate. Right next to him.

He didn’t understand how or why, but one thing was for certain. This kid? This adorable, dopey-eyed kid with a onesie in his celling. He would protect this kid at all costs.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!!!!! xoxo


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